The Fijian captain whisked the boat past island after lush tropical island. Though he was in his mid-30s he drove like a teenaged boy and his friends giggled delightedly as he sped along the sparkling blue Pacific making sharp turns and exaggerated bumps. Passengers who wore hats held on to them tightly and everyone’s face was occasionally sprayed with foam. In sympathy with the pilot’s playfulness, bottle-nosed dolphins torpedoed through the water and leapt in low arcs in front of the boat. Their gray bodies became iridescent in the strong sunlight and many of us hurried to the prow to watch the display.
Our island loomed up like a miniature mountain range covered with dark foliage and fringed with a beach of white sand. Just visible were the huts on this secluded resort in the Yasawas, an island chain west of Fiji. Here the dolphins left and the pilot steered the boat into a bay, navigating between two walls of live coral reef. The water was so clear and the sun so bright that it was possible to see mysterious color and movement beneath the surface. The boat stopped a little way from the shore and burly Fijian men (who are generally tall, muscular and dark) carried our luggage in. We took off our shoes and waded onto the shore, where several women wearing grass skirts and hibiscus flowers in their hair were singing and dancing to welcome us.
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The manager, a tall fine-featured woman, welcomed us and showed us to our rooms. We had our own thatched bure (hut) that nestled between Papaya trees and hibiscus only a couple of feet away from the beach. The whole thing was secured with a flax-like plant material. Inside were two beds with mosquito veils and a low table. There was a bathroom with a toilet and shower. To my husband’s dismay there was no electricity, which meant no fan. It was January, the height of summer in the Southern Hemisphere, and temperatures were climbing to 40 degrees celcius and beyond.
We got around the heat problem by snorkeling as much as possible. The water crashed hard at the shore but after getting pelted with dead coral for the first couple of meters we were soon looking at a dazzling field of coral and fish. It was so hot that we spent most of our time in the water and even got to know the tidal rhythms and at what times different fish liked to hunt or feed. One day we took a boat trip out to a reef in the open ocean and saw something incredibly beautiful: a school of small squid moving and changing color in perfect synchronicity. I first saw them as a crowd of electric pink and blue flashes but then they darted away in unison and made themselves translucent so it seemed that they had suddenly vanished.
When we weren’t swimming we were lounging around, eating ripe papayas and reading in the shade. Although there were plenty of opportunities to hike around the island or to go on boat rides, we preferred to stay put. Breakfast and lunch were hurried affairs because the dining area had an aluminum roof that deflected light but attracted heat. In the evenings it was a pleasant place to be as all the people at the resort came together to eat the excellent evening meal, which usually included a dish containing delicious fresh fish.
After dinner we had the opportunity to take part in a kava ceremony. Kava is a mild drug that is served as a drink that looks and tastes like mud. All of us sat round a large bowl filled with the stuff. A gregarious Fijian elder presided over the ceremony and instructed us to take turns at introducing ourselves and taking a sip of it from a coconut shell. In the end, the only effect it had on us was to make our lips a little numb, but it was a memorable experience.
The Yasawas are a particularly beautiful part of Fiji, with plenty of opportunity for privacy and complete relaxation. Blue Lagoon was filmed here and indeed the hot sun, isolation and gorgeous views are the perfect incubus for romance.